


Contrasts

by wilddragonflying



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, And the feels snuck in there somewhere, Cowgirl Position, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Well - Freeform, but then it's just porn, jerking off, not sure how, there's a tiny bit of plot at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's done with taking it slow. He's not an invalid, and he's not crazy. Not any crazier than any other Avenger (especially Tony), at any rate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contrasts

**Author's Note:**

> So in my last fic (Skin Deep), I mentioned having Bucky riding Steve and jerking himself off with his metal hand. This is that fic.

Bucky was frustrated. He was frustrated in many ways.

Frustrated that everyone except Stark, Natasha, and Banner seemed to treat him like he was a ticking time bomb. Steve was better than the rest, but even still had moments where he was cautious about how he acted around Bucky, about what he said.

He was frustrated because even though he and Steve had finally managed to overcome the parts of themselves that still warned them that being with another man would get them arrested or killed, that even though they were together, they had yet to have sex. It wasn't Bucky-- or at least, if it was up to Bucky, they would have at least traded handjobs by now-- it was Steve; he wanted to take things slow, and Bucky could respect that, but seriously. They'd been together for three months, and they'd been best friends since they were children, and it had been two and a half years since D.C. They kissed, they cuddled, but anytime they started edging into sexual territory, it was usually Steve, and only once or twice Bucky, who pulled back, put a stop to it.

He was also frustrated with this stupid Doctor Doom and his stupid fucking robots.

***

"For fuck's sake!" Bucky shouted, spotting more robots heading towards the team. "How many fucking robots does this bastard have?"

"Too damn many," Clint growled over the comm; the archer was situated about a block away, helping Bucky pick off as many robots as they could, to make things a bit easier for the rest of the team. Bucky snarled wordlessly and adjusted his aim, sending a bullet through the central control system of a robot who was coming up behind Steve.

It felt like forever before Stark finally managed to shut down the robots, and then Steve and Thor were taking down Doom himself; the moron had decided he wanted front row seating to the battle, instead of staying back like any sensible villian would have done. The first thing Bucky did when he got down to the ground was yank Steve close to him and kiss him senseless.

Steve let out a breathless laugh while the rest of the team politely averted their eyes (actually, Hulk moved to bodily block Stark's view, much to Stark's displeasure). "Happy to see me?"

"Happy you didn't get your fool ass killed," Bucky countered, kissing Steve again.

***

After a debriefing, Bucky practically dragged Steve back to their apartment, not stopping until they were locked in their bedroom. Steve let out an oof as Bucky practically tackled him to the bed, kissing him frantically. "Shut up," he growled under his breath, trying to get Steve's suit off without ripping it. "C'mon, c'mon, help me out here, Rogers."

"Buck, wait," Steve said softly, grabbing Bucky's wrists in his hands and pulling them away from the fabric. Bucky absolutely did not whine in frustration. "Just, wait, okay?"

Bucky glared at Steve. "Feels like all we've been doing is waiting," he muttered petulantly, but he didn't fight Steve's grip.

Steve chuckled quietly. "I know. I just-- I've finally got you, and for some reason, you love me, and I love you. I want to do this right, you know?"

Bucky sighed, his whole body relaxing (well, maybe not his whole body) as he gave in to Steve's maddening desire to talk. "I know," he answered, twisting his hands around until his and Steve's fingers were intertwined. "But we've known each other our whole lives, and I've loved you since before the War. I've wanted you for longer than that. I know you want to do this right, but that's really hard for me to accept when all I want right now is to at least get my hands on you. Preferably get you in me, but that's probably still moving too fast for you."

Steve let out a small, strangled noise. "A little," he admitted, but there was an edge to his voice that gave Bucky hope. "I've loved you for a long time, Buck. I spent a good bit of that time thinking you were dead. I want to savor this."

Bucky squeezed Steve's hands reassuringly. His gaze was drawn to where his prosthetic hand was glinting dully between Steve's fingers. "I get that," he said quietly. "But there's no rule saying we can't savor being together and not have sex."

"I want to have sex with you, Bucky," Steve said firmly, releasing his grip on Bucky's right hand and reaching up to cup Bucky's cheek. "Don't ever doubt that, okay? I love you, and I want you."

Bucky nodded, his eyes closing briefly as he leaned into Steve's touch. "I know. Same here." He sighed before meeting Steve's eyes. "I won't push anymore."

Steve's gaze softened, and he stroked Bucky's cheek briefly. "Yes, you will. Because you wouldn't be Bucky if you didn't push."

"It makes you uncomfortable," Bucky argued. "I want you to be comfortable, and me pushing for this isn't making you comfortable."

Steve, inexplicably, smiled at that. "It's reassuring," he asserted. "And what makes me uncomfortable is that I want you so much it hurts, but I also don't want to inadvertently do something to make you uncomfortable. You've gotten your memories back of before the war, but you don't remember much of what you did when HYDRA had you. I don't want to do something that might trigger a memory."

It clicked, then, for Bucky. "You think they made me use sex to complete missions."

The way Steve shifted guiltily was confirmation enough. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's used sex to get what they want."

Bucky made a frustrated noise. "No. I don't remember much, but I do remember one instance where they suggested it, and I killed three men-- the ones who brought it up in the first place-- before they decided that if I had 'such an extreme aversion to copulation, it would be unwise to force him to use it to complete the mission when he's always been successful before,'" Bucky said in a mocking voice. "I only remember that because afterward, I received one of the worst punishments I'd ever gotten from them. Apparently one of the men was the son of some prominent member of HYDRA."

Steve was studying him intently, but Bucky didn't feel any judgment, so he waited for Steve to marshal his thoughts. "So you never-- "

"The first time I had sex since I left for the War was when I slept with Natasha when I was training her. It was a mission she'd been set by another instructor, to see if she could seduce a mark. She chose me, because she trusted me not to hurt her when I found out that it was a mission, not real."

"How did you react?" Again, there was no judgment in Steve's eyes, only patience and acceptance.

Bucky laughed, just a touch bitterly. "I congratulated her. And then gave her some tips on how to do an even better job."

Steve's hand moved from Bucky's cheek to cup the back of his neck, tugging him forward until Steve could kiss him softly. "You were not yourself," the blond said softly, but firmly. "I don't care about that."

Bucky huffed, turning his head and shifting so that he and Steve were laid across the bed, rather than Steve on his back and Bucky straddling him. "I do," he murmured. "No matter what you say, Steve, that was me. A version of me."

"That was created against your will," Steve corrected gently, wrapping his arms around Bucky. Bucky, grateful for the contact, wrapped both arms around Steve's waist and burrowed into Steve's side.

"Still a side of me." Bucky felt more than heard Steve sigh; it was an old argument, and one that wasn't going to be resolved anytime soon. Still, it was reassuring to know that there was someone who believed in him.

They didn't talk anymore, just let exhaustion pull them into sleep.

***

Bucky stayed true to his word; he didn't push for more when they started making out, just let himself and Steve both enjoy being  _together._ Didn't mean he didn't still want to get his hands all over Steve, but after their conversation after their last mission, he was willing to wait. 

Apparently Steve wasn't; it was like some weird role-reversal. Two weeks after Doctor Doom and his bastardized robots, Bucky was walking through their bedroom after his shower to the dresser and Steve was sitting on the bed. 

Bucky blamed his mind-blowing orgasm (hey, if Steve wasn't going to get him off, then Bucky would just have to do it himself) for the fact that he didn't see Steve reaching out for him. He let out a surprised huff when he found his face mashed into a very firm-- but clothed-- chest. He pushed himself back so he could look at Steve with a raised eyebrow. "Hello."

"Hi," Steve said cheekily, a smirk on his face. 

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, since you didn't last long enough for me to help you." Bucky froze, watching Steve warily. Was he seriously...?

"W-- Excuse me?"

Steve gestured to his bare chest. "I was getting ready to join you. You've got a pretty loud tell when you come in the shower, you know."

Bucky flushed. He had a tendency to slam his hand into the wall to hold himself up. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly subtle yourself, punk."

Steve chuckled, reaching for the back of Bucky's thigh with his free hand to bring his knee up beside Steve's hip on the bed. "Been thinking about what you said," he began conversationally. "About wanting to get your hands on me. Get me in you."

Bucky brought his other knee up so that he was straddling Steve, sitting in the bigger man's lap; he liked the contrast of his near-nakedness against the fully-clothed breadth of Steve's thighs. "Really? I've been thinking about a lot more than that."

Now it was Steve's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Bucky nodded, splaying his flesh-and-bone hand against Steve's chest. "Yeah. I really,  _really_  want to ride you. What you didn't hear in the shower was me fingering myself."

" _Jesus_ ," Steve hissed, one hand clutching Bucky's hip, the other twisting into Bucky's hair to yank him down into a kiss.

Bucky groaned into the kiss, grinding down unconsciously on Steve, his groan turning into a pleased moan when he discovered Steve was hard beneath him. For the first time, Bucky blessed the advanced healing the Russians had given him, because it meant reduced refractory period. "Steve, please," he muttered, nipping at Steve's lower lip hard enough to draw blood; it healed over before barely a drop had oozed out. Bucky scrabbled ineffectively at Steve's jeans, whining in frustration. 

Steve, the bastard, just chuckled and moved them backwards until he was laid out across the bed, and Bucky first chucked his towel across the room before lifting up onto his knees so he could unbutton Steve's jeans and tug them and the boxers down. Steve sat up to push them the rest of the way off, and Bucky couldn't resist kissing him again. This time it was Steve who drew blood, and when Bucky ran his tongue over the cut, he nearly moaned at the slight metallic taste-- never thought he'd be one to find blood erotic, but hey. Everyone had their kinks.

***

Steve licked his lips, mirroring Bucky's movement, and hissed when Bucky rocked back down against Steve's cock. "Fuck, can't do foreplay right now," he muttered, laying back and reaching for the nightstand so he could grab the lube he'd stashed there a week ago. Once he had it, he turned back to Bucky. "You said something about riding me?"

Bucky nodded eagerly, taking the lube from Steve, who protested. "Shuddup, you can do it next time," Bucky said, grinning as he spread lube on the fingers of his flesh hand before reaching behind himself, and then Steve had to grip the base of his cock in a death hold or else he was going to come. Nonexistent refractory period be damned, he wanted to come in Bucky the first time. 

The look on Bucky's face could only be described as blissful as he worked himself open. Steve was pretty sure Bucky was just as impatient as him, because there was no way he was  _really_  prepped enough to take Steve's cock, but there he was, spreading lube over Steve's length and then lifting himself up and positioning Steve at his entrance. 

"Buck, wait-- there's no way you're prepped enough," Steve protested, holding Bucky's hips firmly. 

Bucky glared at him. "I'm open enough, Steve. Now shut up and let me ride you."

Steve studied Bucky's face intently, but when Bucky only glared harder, he finally relented, relaxing his grip on Bucky's hips enough so that Bucky could slide down. When he was fully seated, both Bucky and Steve had their heads thrown back-- Steve so he could concentrate on not coming; Bucky as he got used to the stretch of being penetrated for the first time since the one and only time he'd gone to a queer bar back in the '30s. 

After a moment, Steve became aware of Bucky starting to move. Just rocking back and forth, at first, but gradually beginning to circle his hips before lifting up an inch or so and then letting himself drop down slowly. Steve bit his lip, watching Bucky as he carefully figured out his rhythm; before long, he was riding Steve enthusiastically. The first time he hit what must have been Bucky's prostate, Steve thought Bucky was going to come untouched. Bucky had both hands planted on the mattress by Steve's knees, giving himself extra leverage to work himself on Steve's cock. 

Bucky didn't speak, not like Steve had always imagined he would, but the sounds he made were enough to have Steve reaching for Bucky's hips, intending to increase the pace. He got his hands slapped away and a glare from Bucky for his trouble. "I'm riding you," Bucky said hotly-- the image was a little ruined by the moan he let out after his last word. 

"Just wanted to help," Steve said, amused, but he laid back and just rested his hands on Bucky's thighs, enjoying the play of muscles beneath the skin. Bucky worked them both up to the edge, and when Bucky reached with his metal hand to jack himself off as he bounced up and down on Steve's lap, Steve couldn't hold back anymore; he grabbed Bucky's hips, planted his feet against the mattress, and fucked up into Bucky, holding the brunet in place. 

Bucky was letting out breathy moans and grunts, his hand stripping his cock, and Steve barely had time to appreciate the contrast of the silver alloy against the flushed red of Bucky's cock before Bucky fucked into his fist one last time before stiffening, his inner muscles clenching around Steve's cock as he came on Steve's stomach and chest in hot, messy streaks. 

Steve groaned and tightened his grip on Bucky's hips, fucking into him one last time before he came, his head thrown back in ecstasy as his cock pulsed inside Bucky. 

Dimly, Steve was aware of Bucky falling forward against his chest, practically purring as he nuzzled into Steve's neck, and Steve barely spared a thought for the fact that the drying come on his chest and the come currently trickling out of Bucky's ass were going to be a bitch to clean when they woke up before both he and Bucky slipped under. 

***

The experience of having Bucky ride him was worth the bitching out he got in the morning when Bucky had to peel himself off of Steve to get cleaned up. 

Steve just dragged Bucky into the shower with him, and fucked him against the wall. 

Clean up was easier that way.


End file.
